


Weirdly Convenient

by Jaune



Category: Captain America - All Media Types, Iron Man (Comics), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Awkward Flirting, Blushing Steve Rogers, Compulsive Swallowing, Innuendo, M/M, Mechanic Tony Stark, Motorcycles, POV Steve Rogers, Peer Pressure, Steve Rogers' Motorcycle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-01
Updated: 2018-06-01
Packaged: 2019-05-17 00:48:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14822066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jaune/pseuds/Jaune
Summary: At the behest of his best friend, Steve bought a motorcycle...“Ah, I’m Tony. So, I got word that you’ve been having some trouble operating your great, big, piece… of machinery?”





	Weirdly Convenient

Steve Rogers sighed, running his long fingers through his thick blonde hair in agitation. He should never have let Bucky talk him into getting this bike.

It wasn’t that Steve didn’t like the bike.

It was a beautiful motorcycle. Sleek, but it still possessed a respectable amount of muscle. The undercarriage and detailing were silver, but the stylized design of a bald eagle was all of his favorite colors—red, white, and blue—on the body of the vehicle. 

Steve kept it clean and well taken care of; the paint glistened and shined like it had when it was brand new, the bright midafternoon sun causing a bright glare to flash into his eyes. The thing was literally blindingly beautiful.

It rode like a dream. It was so smooth, the shocks almost brand new, absorbing and impact. The design fit his balance perfectly. When he drove it, it was almost like it became an extension of him. 

Steve couldn’t do any fancy tricks with it yet (he wasn’t sure that he wanted to learn, but Bucky was always going on about how the “birds” would “dig it” and all that), but he loved the feeling of riding it. The wind would blow through his hair, making him feel weightless. When he really got up to speed, the purr of the engine travelling up his arms, he felt like he was really about to take flight; it was so freeing.

So, it wasn’t that Steve didn’t like the bike. He did.

But there was _something_ wrong with it, and he would have felt more comfortable taking on a whole company of Doom’s grunts than taking apart his bike to figure out why it was making that… _noise_.

There had hardly been a noise that cut to the core of him like that; it was almost like the sound of a distressed citizen, one directly in his care. He had really become obsessed with this bike. Maybe getting it at all was a bad idea. God knew, Bucky a ton of questionable ideas for Steve on a regular basis. He was like a questionable idea vending machine.

Bucky had called to talk about his newest love not too long ago but cut his rhapsodizing short when he noticed his best bud’s attitude was strange. 

When Steve had explained what was going on with his motorcycle, Bucky had simply responded, “At least no one was bitten by a vampire this time. I’ll call my mechanic for you.”

Bucky’s strangely-themed college parties aside, Steve was slightly embarrassed. He hadn’t meant to complain so vehemently to his friend about his bike, but he couldn’t help it. He had _feelings_. His bike was his baby.

Steve rubbed his abs and belly absently, ruminating on said feelings. He knew that he was probably blowing this way out of proportion but, in the absence of anyone to gift his affections to, his bike, Rhonda— _no, no, he was not going to name it!_ —was the only available recipient. 

Steve heard the rumbling of a vehicle’s engine coming down the road. Since he was at his lodge in the mountains, everything was so quiet that he could hear pretty much anything that disturbed the tranquility of the place. It was a great place, optimal for when his friend Bruce was visiting; when he was living in the city it had been so difficult to convince the guy to visit, but now Steve was enjoying being able to see his friend more often. That said, Steve was a bit surprised that this mechanic-guy had come so quickly. It was convenient; it was weird. It was… weirdly convenient.

Steve leaned out to look down the drive. His brow furrowed when he saw the vehicle approaching his house. A limousine? Scratch that, this wasn’t his mechanic. Someone was lost.

He descended the front stairs of his house as the limo pulled to a stop in the gravel in front of him. He approached the car. As he watched, the driver exited the vehicle and came around to open the door in the back.

A man stepped (practically leapt) from the vehicle. His stretched exorbitantly, reaching his arms up as if trying to grab the sun from the sky. Watching the sinews of his muscles flexing under his bronze skin made Steve swallow twice, compulsively. He shook his head, loosening his neck, and Steve wondered if it had been a long ride for the poor guy. 

Steve continued to approach the two men standing at the rear of the limo. The shorter one, who was the passenger in the limo, had a dark, cropped cap of hair. For all that he had just stepped from a limo, he was dressed extremely casually, wearing an undershirt and stained jeans with none-too-few holes in them. Steve was confused. Maybe this was the mechanic after all?

“Erm, hello?” Steve said, walking up to the men. 

The two of them looked at Steve and the dark-haired one smirked slowly. The sun glared off of his beetle black sunglasses as he turned to look at Steve.

The man gave him a blatant and slow once-over, taking in Steve’s skintight vest of black under-armor, straight-legged stone-washed jeans, and rugged hiking boots.

“Well hellooooooo…” the guy said with a salacious smile, “You must be _Steve_ … You know, you’re kinda hot for a guy named _Steve._ ”

Steve was a little surprised by the guy’s rudeness, so he folded his arms against his chest defensively. His tone was less than enthused when he replied, “Are you—are you making fun of my name? …Also, I must have missed the introductions. Who are you?”

The guy patted his driver on the shoulder, who stepped back, and then he sauntered up to Steve. Steve found that, although the man’s clothes were loose, Steve could see the sleek movements of the guy’s muscles as he walked. He was so smooth, hips rolling when he walked, like some sort of jungle cat or a well-oiled machine.

“Ah, I’m Tony. So, I got word that you’ve been having some trouble operating your great, big, piece… of machinery?”

Steve felt his cheeks go hot at Tony’s words and knew that he was red... and getting redder. His jaw went slack in shock at Tony’s outrageous words, but Tony wasn’t finished yet.

“Well howsabout it, Blondie? Not that I’d mind us continuing to stand here and stare at each other—you’re gorgeous, I’m gorgeous, it works—I’d really like to get a looksee under your hood.” Tony slid his glasses from his face revealing his half-lidded eyes, full of heat, staring up into Steve’s.

“By the way, this is Happy,” Tony said, waving flippantly back at his driver, who gave a courtesy wave to Steve in return. Steve nodded at the broad man in acknowledgement.

 

"Sorry, did either of you want something to drink? I don't have much to choose from, but there's lemonade and tea, if you're interested," Steve offered, attempting to be a polite host.

Happy nodded, but remain silent while Tony waved his hand dismissively, saying, "Don't bother. Just show me to your bike."

"Uh, it’s just back here, in my garage,” Steve said, turning around and leading Tony around the side of his home and back to the garage.

Tony didn’t reply. Steve, slightly perturbed by his silence, paused and looked over his shoulder at Tony. He was just in time to catch Tony staring at his rear before Tony looked up at him again, meeting his gaze.

Tony’s expression morphed into the same salacious smirk from earlier. He clearly didn’t feel any shame for having been caught out while ogling Steve.

“So,” Tony said slowly, with a naughty grin, “are bikes the only thing that you ride?”

Steve whipped back around quickly, hoping to coax the blood away from his cheeks before Tony could see them. He couldn’t remember having ever blushed twice within this short of a time span. His lips pulled back in a frown and he continued walking, releasing a soft sigh that was inaudible to any but himself.

The two men soon arrived at the garage, and Steve guided the motorcycle outside so that Tony could take a look at it.

"Okay, Captain America," Tony muttered under his breath when he saw the flag-colored eagle on the bike.

Steve gave him a sharp look, wondering if Tony really knew who he was, and was just playing around with him. Tony's face was devoid of any artifice, though it was full of amusement. Steve concluded that the man was simply making fun of Steve for his design, then, and didn't know about the actual armor and spandex suit hidden away in Steve's closet. 

Tony didn’t waste any time, lowering first his knees to the ground, and then sliding down onto his belly. Tony spent a couple of minutes tinkering with the bike, pulling off so many small pieces that Steve sent up a short prayer that Tony knew how to put them all back on correctly.

Steve’s anxiety about the machine began to resurface, making him feel like he was waiting outside a family member’s room at a hospital, waiting to hear about a terminal illness. 

Tony slid back from the bike and rose to his knees. He beckoned to Steve, signaling that he wanted him to lean down and look at something specific on the bike. It was a round piece that Tony called a “head” and was saying something else about what was wrong. 

Steve was trying to comprehend what he was being told, but he was dismayed to find that Tony may as well have been speaking Latin for all that Steve understood his “automotive-speak.” 

Steve decided that, now, he was going to give up pretending and tell Tony to fix it, to just fix whatever was wrong before Steve went crazy with concern, to just take his money and fix everything that was wrong with his baby—

There was suddenly a sharp slapping sound and a tingling sting on Steve's rear. Steve jerked up in surprise and looked back at Tony incredulously.

Tony gazed back at him shamelessly, wearing undoubtedly the largest shit-eating grin that Steve had ever seen.

“I believe this is the beginning of a great skinship.”

**Author's Note:**

> Steve's supposed to be a super-soldier but he didn't even anticipate Tony slapping his ass... and I'm sure we all saw that one coming lmfao


End file.
